


Of Responsibility and Threats

by Melira



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Panic, Protective Bruce, Worried Bruce, bruce's pov, hurt dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 11:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18031028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melira/pseuds/Melira
Summary: Masked gunmen at a charity ball at Wayne Manor. Bruce and Dick in the middle of it but with no way of changing into Batman and Robin. Something bad's bound to happen...





	1. Charity Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is not mine. It is a paraphrased version of "Of Boredom and Threats" by LavenderBlossom74 on fanfiction.net which shows the whole event from Dick's POV. So what is happening and the dialogues are not mine, just Bruce's thoughts are.   
> This was written about two and a half years ago and published with the author's permission, I just gave it a once over and uploaded it on AO3.  
> In the original, there was Artemis (Young Justice) present, but I removed here for she had no active or even passive-but-relevant part in the story.

Bruce had always hated these events. Charity balls and galas, they meant utter boredom and endless fake smiling to him. Not to mention having to endure the presence and especially the constant talking of all those upper class people, who thought it beneath their dignity to even speak to someone who earned less than a million per year just out of interest. He loathed them, but what choice did he have? It was pretending to be Brucie or risk losing Batman’s anonymity and that, he couldn’t have. It was essential to protect the secret at all costs, whether he liked it or not.   

Well, at least he didn’t mind wearing suits. He was used to them from his childhood on. Other than Dick. His ward always had an air of stiffness to him when being forced to wear one and Bruce couldn’t help but smile the tiniest little bit when thinking of it. How could anyone be perfectly comfortable in colourful tights and a billowing cape but not in an elegant black suit? 

Anyway, he needed to get downstairs now and greet his guests, all members of Gotham’s High Society. The value of dresses, tuxedos and accessories gathered in the Hall of Wayne Manor tonight alone probably equalled the possessions of all other Gothamites combined. And he had to pretend he was one of them. Well, never mind. It was business as usual and he was used to it. 

He went to Dick’s room to get the boy downstairs with him, but stopped at the door. His ward stood in front of the mirror, obviously battling his bow-tie. He seemed to be on the losing side. Bruce couldn’t resist chuckling and watched the object of his amusement whip around to face him.  

“Not funny!”, Dick said angrily and the expression in his eyes accused his guardian of child abuse before he turned his head away. 

Bruce stepped in, unable to contain a little smile, walked over to the dresser and knelt before Dick to be on the same height. For a 13-year old the boy really was small!  

He started untying the monstrosity the younger one had produced. “Doesn’t Alfred help you with these things?“ Usually,  you could rely on the butler for ensuring that the etiquette was served.  

“He’s busy commanding the food army”, came the reply while Bruce started re-tying the bow-tie. The way it was supposed to, this time. 

“Food army?” 

“They’re in charge of the food and Alfred is their General, so yeah.” Dick explained, still not looking at him. Bruce was amused.  

“Well, you’re in charge of being a moody teenager, so does that make me the General of moody teenagers?“ Obviously, he had hit the intended nerve. Dick turned his head and gazed at Bruce. 

“I’m not the one hosting that stupid charity ball and I don’t even have to be there, so in my opinion, I have the right to be moody!” 

Bruce understood the feelings of the boy perfectly well but that didn’t change anything. Dick would have to endure this evening just like him and he’d live. Plus, they were having this argument every other weekend, whenever there was some event to be attended. The outcome never changed. It had become some sort of ritual between them, only the exact words changing every time. Bruce kind of liked it and took some delight from it.  

“Maybe”, he replied, “but you’re still my ward and I’m still your guardian and in my opinion that gives me the right to drag you along if only to make you suffer with me – excuse me, mingle. And by the way, my opinion is what goes.” He smirked a little, he couldn’t resist, and watched Dick’s facial expression become still a little more annoyed. 

“Fine”, he gave in, “but I’m only mingling for a little while and then I’m heading back up.” 

“Whatever you say, Dick”, said Bruce. He got to his feet again and softly tousled the black hair of his ward, careful not to mess it up. He would take on the Joker anytime, but making Alfred furious was definitely out of the question. Turning for the door he said “Come on” and headed out, closely followed by Dick.

They made their way through a couple of corridors, down two flights of stairs and along another corridor side by side in silence, both preparing for the horrors awaiting them at the ground floor. It was always the same. The majority of the people down there were women, mostly single and more than eager to get a grip on Bruce Wayne, the richest man in Gotham (and probably the surrounding 30 cities). You should think they’d have learned by now. The great Bruce Wayne smiled and did small talk, donated and pretended to have a new girlfriend every other day, but he never started something with one of these … women. 

They reached the final stairway and went down. The noise got louder with every step, there even were some screams, mostly his name. How could people be so superficial? Looks and money were everything that counted in this world of glamour. He would never understand it. And fortunately, there was no need to. He had to play his role, surely, but he didn’t have to become the character he impersonated. Sometimes, it bothered him that the whole world thought of Bruce Wayne as a carefree playboy and what this image did to the memory of his family but then again …  He was Batman, Brucie was just a mask, so why care, what people thought of it.  

When they reached the last step, he snapped out of his thoughts and noticed Dick was just as far gone in his mind as he himself had been merely a second ago. He couldn’t help teasing him a bit. “Aren’t you supposed to be mingling?” 

Dick’s eyes seemed to clear and he shot Bruce a loathing look.  

“You might prefer that over being stampeded by the herd coming our way”, the older man continued, referring to the people slightly shoving towards them. His ward’s eyes grew even colder. Bruce faintly whistled. “It was just a thought. And they will descend upon us in …  a couple of seconds.” He resisted the urge to count backwards. He didn’t want to annoy Dick too much, especially because the boy already seemed to be on edge. 

Finally, they got to the floor and parted in different directions. Bruce could see Dick immediately getting surrounded by some girls, somewhere his age or slightly beneath. Although his well-trained eyes allowed him to sense the slight uneasiness in the boy’s posture, he could also see with how much self-confidence he acted. Bruce could still recall the first time he had to introduce Dick to society life.

The boy had been barely eight years old, shy and scared to death by all those people, either asking him too many questions or talking about him behind his back (but within earshot). About the ‘charity case’, as they called him. As if Bruce had only taken him in because it would look good in the papers. Quite the opposite, he had done it although it meant burdening the boy with all the public attention. He had wanted to help the little orphan he somehow felt like having a connection with. They shared a history of having watched their parents die violently and far too early and he thought maybe he could assist him in getting over that trauma.

It hadn’t been as easy as expected, but at long last, Dick had accepted Bruce as his new caregiver. After months of barely talking, uncomfortable dinners and calling Bruce “Mr. Wayne”, the boy had finally opened up to him. By now, nearly five years later, he was almost like a son to him.  

The next two hours seemed to last ages. One important person after another came up to him, chatting and smiling. The women were waving their hair and showing-off their expensive dresses while the men were slightly more subtle. They all tried to look big and broadened their shoulders before talking to him, but other than that behaved normally.

Bruce usually had this effect on people. A bit intimidating but also giving them the feeling they had to please him. Well, at least as long as he was friendly. When he changed into costume and walked the rooftops as Batman, no one wanted to talk to him longer than absolutely necessary. Even Commissioner Gordon lost a small part of his usual self-confidence when they met. And that was just the way it was supposed to be.  

Sometimes he wished, he didn’t have to split his life in two so different parts. That he could mix them up a bit. So that he could tell all these people to get the hell out of here and stop annoying him without falling out of character. Everyone would expect something like that from Batman, but Bruce Wayne? Unthinkable! And so, he smiled nicely at Deborah Greene, who stood in her vibrant red dress right in front of him, asking, how he liked the evening. 

“It’s just as I planned it to be. They all seem to be enjoying themselves, don’t you think?” he asked her tentatively, giving his voice an undertone of the lightest insecurity. She responded exactly as intended.  

“Yes, of course, they are. Your parties are just such perfect entertainment.” It was obvious, she tried to kiss ass and he knew it. But Brucie wouldn’t, so he said “That’s so nice of you to say, thank you!”, with a broad smile. At the same moment, he turned a few degrees away from her and lifted his head a bit. She wouldn’t notice what he had done exactly but her subconsciousness would recognize his movement as a gesture to end the conversation and hopefully she’d take the hint and leave him.

Lucky for him, she wasn’t as conceited as most of the other guests so it worked. She smiled once again, said “Oh, that’s Marlene Delaney over there, I haven’t seen her in ages!”, winked at him and walked to the other end of the room. He enjoyed the short period of loneliness. Well, if you could call standing in the middle of a crowd being alone. But it was as quiet as it would get for nearly the whole night. It still was only 10.15 p.m. Just as he braced himself for the upcoming hours, he heard his name. 

“Bruuuuuuuce.” Dick dragged his name. He had already waited for the boy to show up and he knew what question would come next. He had his answer ready and Dick wouldn’t like it.  

“I mingled, just like you asked me to”, the boy said, “now can I please, please leave? Pretty please?” His eyes grew bigger with every word. Bruce saw that he tried to look like a pleading puppy, so his mentor wouldn’t be able to say no, but this didn’t work. Not with him. He smirked. 

“Sure.” He started counting the seconds until Dick would grasp that it wasn’t that easy. At first, the boy’s face lit up. He sniffed the air of freedom and already tensed his muscles to walk away when he finally got it. His eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth fell back to their former position. Well, at least the boy had had approximately four seconds of utter and unexpected happiness this evening, more than could be said of Bruce. But he wasn’t letting him go. Not, if he himself had to stay. What was a ward for, if not to endure psychological torture side by side with you? But he was a fair man, he would give him a choice. 

“You’ll just have an extra hour or two with Alfred working on your etiquette. Or maybe it should be three hours?” Yeah, alright, it wasn’t really a choice. He knew, etiquette-lessons with Alfred were possibly the thing Dick hated most of all. But: He had the choice to leave if he wanted to bad enough. Bruce watched the boy getting even moodier. But Dick knew when he was defeated. Arguing with his guardian never worked, so why try? 

“I’ll stay”, he mumbled and Bruce smiled.  

“Good, because if I can’t leave, then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you can’t either.” 

“Awesome”, came the grumbled response, full of fake enthusiasm. Bruce chuckled softly. He loved the boy, although he’d never said it out loud.  

They stood side by side for a while, watching the madding crowd and listening to their own thoughts.  

Bruce’s were at their last mission together. It hadn’t been something special, only a regular patrol. Halfway through the night, in one of the less pleasant districts of Gotham City, they had come across a guy trying to steal a car. The man had been alone and unarmed so they had just snuck up on him from behind and grabbed him. While Bruce had contacted the police, he had watched Dick cuffing the man and secure him against the car. The boy was only thirteen and had already fought more criminals (some more dangerous, some less) than most police officers after twenty years of duty. Bruce definitely was proud of what he had become. From a small child living with a circus and doing trapeze acts to a feared and respected hero watching over Gotham’s people in only a few years.

All of a sudden, there was something. Bruce couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but it was definitely wrong. He tensed, straightened up and got ready to act at a moment’s notice. Only the fraction of a second later, he felt Dick do the same right beside him. He had barely time to wonder what was happening before the windows shattered, all at once. They were broken by men jumping through them. They wore identical black clothing and masks covering their whole faces except mouths and eyes. And they all carried guns, semiautomatic.  

Bruce reflexively put his hand on Dick’s shoulder, a gesture of protection he couldn’t stop. He was his first and biggest worry, although he knew, that wasn’t right. In the moment he had sensed something was wrong, his mind should have switched from Bruce to Batman. But it had only done so incompletely. Batman’s concern pertained the ordinary, the ones who couldn’t save themselves. But Bruce’s… He worried about his ward above everything else and that was wrong. At least in a situation like this. He should have had the bigger picture in mind but he couldn’t help it, he instinctively acted selfish, protecting what meant most to him. 

While these thoughts flew through his mind, the black men moved. One was standing slightly in front of the others, his posture practically screaming ‘leader’. He cast a long look around, taking in everything around him. 

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?”, he said, a malevolent look in his eyes. 


	2. Downhill

Bruce let his eyes glide over the whole room, noticing everything and everyone. The guests were in some kind of shock, no one moved, no one made a sound, some even seemed to have stopped breathing. He checked the entrances, the obvious ones were all guarded by men in black and even in front of a secret one (a hidden passageway behind a tapestry, leading to one of the less used kitchens) stood one of the intruders. Bruce didn’t know whether on purpose or by accident. He hoped for the latter. 

He could see Dick out of the corner of his left eye. The boy was looking at him, obviously waiting for an order. What should they do? Stay Bruce and Richard and let the situation unfold or become Batman and Robin and take the intruders on? Unfortunately, there was only one possibility and Bruce didn’t like it. At all.  

He locked gazes with Dick and gave him the tiniest shake of his head, barely more than a movement of his eyes. They couldn’t switch character now. Their identities had to be protected at all costs. They had to find another way out of this mess.  

Bruce turned his gaze back to the other people in the room. They were standing there, frightened, with armed men all around them and no way out. He just hoped nobody would get hurt in the upcoming situation. 

He looked at Dick again, seeing the frustrated look on his face slowly turning into anger. He knew what was going on inside the boy’s mind. He wanted to do something, anything. Not just stand there, at the mercy of those men. He was a hero and he wanted to save the day, that was his job. Although he knew how important it was, he had never liked the need to protect his identity and a situation like this certainly didn’t make it any easier. But Bruce was sure he could trust the boy, he had raised him right. 

With every passing second, the people were getting louder. Now, that the first shock was over, they started screaming. They panicked, one after another, and it was only a matter of time until the first one started dashing for the doors, probably provoking the men to open fire. Bruce thought hard about how he could prevent this from happening when the leader of the group suddenly moved. He was fast that was for sure. Within a second, he was standing right in front of Bruce, facing away from him and holding up his gun, firing once. Silence was immediate. The whole room froze, everyone shocked, even Dick beside him obviously hadn’t seen it coming. 

“That was just a warning shot …  the next one might just hit home”, the man said with a shrug. Bruce was sure, that guy wouldn’t care the slightest bit if he killed someone.  

The man slowly turned and looked straight at him. Bruce had seen all kinds of villains and all kinds of eyes on them. The Joker’s were simply mad and Harvey Two-Face’s spoke of a pain that could drive a man crazy. But never, never, had he seen eyes as cold as these. They lacked every single emotion, they just stared, telling everybody that their owner didn’t care about anything. It was obvious, this man was prepared to hurt people, even looking forward to it. And that made him ten times more dangerous than an average criminal. 

Bruce’s mind snapped back to his responsibilities. He had to protect these people. But how? He couldn’t do anything without giving up his life’s mission. And losing his identity would cause that, inevitably. He pushed aside the thought of Dick standing next to him. If he started worrying about him, too, he would lose his sense of priority. So he had no choice but to go with the situation as it was. 

He lifted his hands in front of him, palms facing the man opposite of him. He tried to slightly let his body slump to look smaller and less intimidating, his whole posture signalling ‘I surrender’. 

“If it isn’t the big man himself”, the man said, his tone delighted and cruel at the same time. 

Bruce didn’t really hope for it to work, but he still tried to solve this the easy way. He had to do everything he could to protect all the people here.  

“If you want money, I’ll give you as much as you want. Just, please, don’t hurt anybody.” Although the words were what Brucie would say in the situation at hand, the content came from his heart. But as soon as he had said them, he knew they were in vain. That man wasn’t here just for the money. Maybe his comrades were, but the leader? No, he enjoyed the show. Enjoyed being powerful and the feeling of hurting other people. He was the kind of person who would slowly squeeze a slug beneath their foot as a kid or rip the wings off a fly just to watch them crawl on the floor until they died. He had always hated this kind of lunatics the most. Those, who were cruel without a motive, just for the fun of it. What they called fun… 

“Hmmm”, the man tapped his chin with one finger, pretending to think about it. “I know you’re ‘Gotham’s White Knight’ and never go back on your word and all”, he said, making quotation marks with his fingers, as he used the unofficial title the newspaper had given Bruce, “but forgive me if I don’t believe you.” The cruel look in his eyes got even more prominent although he smiled. “Just to, you know, make sure you don’t go back on your word, I might need a little … I don’t know … leverage.”

And Bruce knew what the man planned, even before his eyes flickered over to Dick and focused on him. His worst nightmare was coming true. He had always feared that someday, some maniac would try to use Dick against him. If they took Robin, it was bad, sure, but then he could save him as Batman, in case the boy wasn’t able to wiggle himself out of the misery himself, but if something happened to Dick … Bruce was helpless. All his skills were useless, he could only hope nothing too bad would happen. If there was anything that drove him mad above everything else, it was helplessness.

He had first felt that when he fell down that well as a kid and met bats for the first time in his life. The second time was even worse, in that dark alleyway, watching his parents get shot for nothing. And now this. It was happening all over again. His mind threatened to start spinning but he pulled himself together. He had to work out a strategy to save his ward while making sure none of the guests would get hurt in the process. He was the only one able to do it and it wouldn’t be easy, that was for sure. 

Bruce pushed Dick behind him, his left hand still in the air, his eyes fixed on the man before him. The lunatic raised an eyebrow and smirked, while unobtrusively changing the grip on the weapon he was holding loosely at his side. Bruce knew what this meant, what was going to happen. He saw the muscles on the man opposite him flex before actually seeing the movement. He could’ve stopped it but for Brucie, it would have been impossible. So he only stood there, waiting for the impact, clenching his teeth, so they wouldn’t get knocked out. 

The gun hit him hard in the face. Still acting, he groaned silently and fell to the ground, ending up on all fours. Blood dripped from his mouth, leaving red stains on the former white marble floor. He knew, he left Dick unprotected by going down and the feeling of abandoning the boy ate him alive, but he had no choice. He could imagine how Dick felt right now and he knew that feeling alone, forsaken, was the worst to him. That it was, what gave him nightmares. But he couldn’t change it. The boy had to be strong for now, they’d deal with the consequences later, as much as he hated it.  

Bruce wanted to look up and keep an eye on the situation, but that would have been out of character once again. So he only saw the feet of the man, as he walked across him and behind Dick. He closed his eyes, listening hard to sense what was going on. He heard the man whistling lightly, clothing rustle and a movement, then Dick gasped. The man must’ve put him in a chokehold. His rage grew with every second, he wanted to get up and knock the man down so badly. Instead, he let himself fall on his left side, so he could see what was going on.  

The man was standing behind Dick, left arm around his neck, the other one holding a gun to the boy’s temple. All across the room, the other intruders started moving, too. Every one of them walked up behind another kid, taking them hostage. Some of the girls looked like fainting every second, none of them had ever experienced having a gun pressed to their head before. Bruce looked at his ward and saw the emotions battling inside him. His face was pure steel but his eyes showed how scared he really was.

Gradually, the expression changed. Bruce could almost see the boy’s thoughts. He was scared, yes. But he wanted to do something. Wanted to end this, save the people in the room now, even if it meant exposing himself and lose his secret identity. Robin had never been as determined as Batman to risk everything for the mission. He was probably too young to get the meaning. That it was no good saving a few people now but afterwards not being able to continue watching over the city anymore. It was even hard for Batman sometimes, but by now he had lived after this motto for so long, it had become easier to stay strong and not give in to the situation’s temptation. He just hoped, Robin could see that, too. Because Dick wouldn’t, that was for sure. Hopefully, the boy had mentally switched his identity, too, and stayed with the Boy Wonder rather than getting back to being just a kid. At the moment, it certainly seemed like it. By now, the boy’s face spoke of calm determination.  

The man behind him started to walk towards the centre of the room, Dick still fast in his grip. 

He spoke in a cheerful tone, maliciously smiling. “Now, I’m only going to say this once. My men are going to walk around with bags.” At this cue, all men not occupied with kids or guarding doors pulled out black trash bags and started walking around the room. The leader kept explaining. “You will put all – and I mean all! – your valuables inside the bags. Failure to do so will result in …”, he playfully waved the gun at Dick’s head, “… well, let’s just say, you’ll have a mess to clean up.” 

Bruce felt like he was getting sick only by listening to this maniac. Watching him, unable to do anything, was almost more than he could take. It cost him all his self-control not to get up and launch himself at the man. Slowly, he pushed himself in a half sitting position, supporting his weight with his left arm. He wanted to be ready if there should be any possibility of turning the situation.  

Suddenly, the leader got angry and barked “Do not make me repeat myself!”  

His men started to walk from one guest to the next, impatiently watching them handing over their valuables. The males got rid of their Rolexes, wallets and tiepins, the females lost their jewellery. Some of them actually hesitated. As if a kid’s life wasn’t worth losing a bit of money. Bruce could have yelled at them! It was his boy, whose wellbeing was at stake here! He could literally feel how his mind gradually switched back from Batman to Bruce completely. It became harder not to do anything by the second.  

When the first man got to Ms. Mulberry, everything went to hell. Bruce didn’t notice what was happening at first, his eyes were fixed on Dick, but when a deep voice said “Boss!”, he turned his head. He knew the women who had caused the interruption, she was a vulgar person who liked listening to her own voice far too much. He had never liked her, even less so than most of the other VIPs he had to deal with constantly. Now, he saw his point proven. She actually tried to defy the robbers by simply not handing over her necklace and earrings. The leader slowly looked at her, smiling. 

“Problem, Dear?”, he asked, his voice perfectly friendly. She just stared back, neither answering nor moving. 

"Do we have a fighter now?” The man kept smiling at her. Then his features changed the tiniest bit and Bruce knew what was going to happen next. It was hard to stay put. He couldn’t even warn the boy. Suddenly, the man switched his gun to the left hand which was still around Dick’s neck and pulled out a knife in the same instant. Still looking at Ms. Mulberry, he lifted the knife up and then playfully pulled it over Dick’s face. A trail of blood appeared on the boy’s cheek.  

Bruce could see him close his eyes, trying to keep the pain from showing on his face. He really tried to appear strong, but he couldn’t beat an observant viewer, especially not his guardian, who had known him for five years and probably better than anyone else. He had seen Dick grow, he had watched him struggle after his parents’ death, had woken him every other night from nightmares and had calmed him down so he could sleep again. He had tought him how to fight and he had patched him up when he was injured. The boy couldn’t hide anything from him, try as he might. 

Bruce felt a wave of sympathy wash over him, watching his ward struggle, but there was this layer of still growing rage above it. Probably stronger. He had a hard time focusing on acting reasonably and not letting his instincts take over. If he gave in, the man a few feet away from him wouldn’t stand a chance. But he couldn’t. He had to stay low. He had to remind himself several times before he could think straight again. But as soon as he had accomplished that, events evolved further and he needed all his concentration not to roar. 


	3. Torture

The man had taken the blade away from Dick’s face, only to hold it to his throat and slowly pressing it against the skin. Then he started digging it in. Drops of blood appeared first on the boy’s neck before splattering the floor before his feet. Now, the fear in the face of Bruce’s ward was evident to everyone. Sheer panic screamed from his features, mixed with pain. Bruce wanted to get up and pull the man away from him. Wanted to hurt this maniac, preferably kill him. But he still couldn’t. He clenched his right fist in a helpless attempt to calm himself down. There had to be a way out of this. His eyes darted across the room again. The doors were still guarded and every kid had a man behind him, putting a gun to his head. The adults looked shocked, some frozen in the attempt of getting their jewellery off. And everyone looked to the leader of the gang, the one threatening Dick’s life. 

The man made eye contact with Ms. Mulberry again, who had paled while watching what she had caused. He began to speak again, a soft tone to his voice. “Did you think …  Did you think that I was kidding when I said not to make me repeat myself?” He paused, the silence felt threatening. “DID YOU?!” The woman jerked at the now angry voice. Obviously, she had lost all her self confidence. “N-n-n-no", she stuttered. Bruce looked at her directly. _Please, just hand over your necklace. Do as you’re told and keep_ _him from_ _further harm_. He knew, his desperate thoughts weren’t of any use but he couldn’t help it. It was all he could do apart from sitting on the ground, pretending to be a useless softie of a billionaire and watching Dick get hurt because of this stupid woman.  

“No?”, asked the man, his voice gentle again. He pulled the knife away from the boy’s neck but his eyes said, it wasn’t over yet. Bruce had no hope that this would be the end of it. And he was right. When the knife was above Dick’s shoulder, again, he knew what was going to happen. And this time, apparently the boy knew, too. His eyes widened in shock, fear welling up behind them. Bruce contracted every muscle in his body to prepare himself for what was to come and he saw his ward do the same.  

The man positioned the blade on the back of the boy’s shoulder and pushed it in with a quick movement. Instantly, blood flooded down his tux and onto the already soiled floor. 

The panic on Dick’s face vanished, only to get completely replaced by pain. Bruce had the fraction of a second to brace himself for the scream. He had heard the boy scream before. Because he was hurt in a fight or because he had dreamt of his parents dying again, but he would never get used to it. It always felt like he was hurt himself. He’d rather be beaten to death than hearing a scream so full of agony from his ward’s mouth ever again. It hurt his every cell to listen to this and not being able to soothe his pain. He wanted to comfort his boy but he couldn’t reach him. Couldn’t even tell him to stay strong and that he would save him.

Because it was more than he could ask from him and more than he could do. He had to wait for an opportunity to change the situation. Wait for a mistake in the man’s actions, a possibility to successfully attack him. But there was none. This man was a professional. And he had to hope that all the hours he and Dick had spent training would help the boy now. He knew that it was impossible to get immune to pain, but you could adept to it and calm yourself down until you got to ignore it. Dick had always had difficulties with these techniques, but maybe, hopefully, he could use them now, when he was in real need of it. 

The man started to speak again. “The longer you take to get those freaking stones off your body”, he said to the woman, “the longer I will dig this knife into Wayne’s brat’s shoulder.” 

And he did, without a moment’s hesitation. He thrust the blade in, twitched it and rotated it, every few seconds a bit more. His face showing joy at the boy’s pain. 

Dick screamed. Again and again, his agonized cries becoming weaker with every turn of the knife in his shoulder. Bruce could practically see the boy’s strength being drained from his body along with the blood still running down his back. And he could see the tears on his face. Those weren’t due to the pain, he was sure of it. He knew the boy, he knew what tears of pain looked like on him. And these were different.

They spoke partially of fear but even more of loneliness. The boy felt abandoned and Bruce was responsible for that. He had promised to keep him safe, all those years ago, and he had done everything to keep that promise. But now, he couldn’t. Because of all the armed men around them, against whom he wouldn’t stand a chance without his armour and his weapons. All his training and all his abilities wouldn’t help. They’d shoot him first within seconds and then the man would kill Dick, too. Just because.  

Bruce could guess what the boy felt like right now. How, through the haze of his pain, he’d feel vindicated. It was their one big point of argument. How Bruce set the mission above everything else while Dick didn’t. Now, the boy would think his survival meant less to his guardian than the mission. He’d think that was the reason why Bruce didn’t help him. Because if he got up now and saved Dick as Batman, everyone would know. And everything he fought for would be lost from now on. The boy’s mind wouldn’t be able to think of all the other people around him, not while he was tortured like this. And so, he wouldn’t guess them to be the reason for his guardian not getting up. 

But getting up was all Bruce wanted to do. Only logic held him back. It was no good to get them both killed. He had to wait. There would be an opportunity to save Dick. There had to be. But not right now, not while he was on the floor, well visible to the man who had Dick’s life in his hands. Who could end it with a mere flick of his wrist.  

Bruce kept his eyes on Dick’s face while his cries became quieter until he mouthed only one last word before falling completely silent and bowing his head, defeated. _Dad._  

Dad. Bruce was momentarily stunned. Dick had never called him that, always Bruce. He had watched his parents die when he was only eight years old and he had never wanted Bruce to replace his old family. He had just made him his new one. So hearing him say this small word meant a lot. But he couldn’t think about it now, he had to push the upcoming emotions away, store them for later, when all this was over. Hopefully soon… 

"Done”, he heard Ms. Mulligan croak. So finally, she had managed to do what she should have finished minutes ago. Without hesitation and without causing pain to his ward. His son. 

The man smiled at her. “Good.” And he pulled the knife out of Dick’s shoulder, less than careless. The bloodstream got worse as the wound was left open. The boy barely flinched, all the usual light gone from his eyes. Not a spark of resistance left in them. Seeing him like this made Bruce even angrier. He could hardly keep calm any more. He pushed himself in a sitting position, now both fists clenched and shaking on his whole body. He felt like sparks were flying from his eyes, trying to burn the man only a few feet away from him. People were afraid of the Batglare, but that one was cold. This one was red hot with rage. And so much more dangerous. 

The leader started to speak again, this time to everyone. “Now that our … issue …  has been solved, will ya’ll please resume to your generous giving?” No one hesitated even for the fraction of a second, everyone afraid of what could happen, if they did. Many of the people there had children in the same room, currently held captive.  

When looking at the man’s eyes, Bruce saw that the people’s compliance wouldn’t help. At least not Dick. That man wasn’t just going to leave. He was greedy and he would try to get as much money out of the situation as possible. Out of Bruce. And that meant taking Dick with him for further blackmail. He had to do something, quick. This wasn’t going to get any easier. 

As if on cue, the lights started to flicker. Once. The people stared at the ceiling. What had caused this? Certainly not a defect in the manor’s systems. Neither Alfred. The butler surely knew what was going on down here, he always knew everything about the house, but he wouldn’t dare to interfere without a command from Bruce. He had experienced what could result from rash actions. So there was only one possibility left. Someone from the outside trying to help. The police, surely. 

The lights flickered again. The people around him obviously got their hopes up while the men threatening them got uneasy.  

It flickered a third time. Bruce hoped this wouldn’t turn out badly. As he knew the Gotham City Police Department, chances were high it would. On the other hand was this probably their only chance of turning the situation. He tried to relax his muscles shortly so he would stop shaking with anger and tensed again, this time on purpose. He got ready to react on a moment’s notice. 

The lights went out completely and the situation escalated. Nearly everyone started screaming and he heard footsteps, closely followed by gunshots. If only they would stay still! Like this, someone would inevitably get hurt.  

But anyways, this was his chance. Maybe he could get to the man who had Dick and knock him out. Although he couldn’t see a thing apart from the muzzle flashes, he knew where the two of them stood, the image was burnt into his retinas. Slowly, he started crawling in the general direction, a little right to were his target was. When all this had started, he had seen something there. Something that could help him not to raise too much attention to Bruce Wayne having the skills of a martial arts fighter but save Dick nonetheless. He tried not to make any noise, the man was a professional so he would be observing if anyone got near him. Bruce was a master of stealth but in an impractical tux on a floor full of half-dried blood it wasn’t quite so easy.  

Before he could reach his destination, the lights flickered back on. Dimmer than they used to be. A quick glance towards the ceiling confirmed his suspicion. Some of the lightbulbs had gotten hit in the crossfire. When they got all their senses back, the people quieted down. Bruce looked at his surroundings. He was a few feet behind Dick and the man, rather than to their left like before. And police was all over the room, keeping the gunmen at bay. But although he couldn’t see the man’s face, his posture told Bruce, the maniac wouldn’t give in quite so easily. He would put up a fight, no matter what his men did. And he was proven right again. Only seconds later, the man turned the gun in his hand to aim at the opposite wall and pulled the trigger. The unexpected shot caught the guests and even some of the officers off guard. Clearly, they had thought all this would be over now. 

“Hold it”, he yelled at the police. “No one is going anywhere except me and …", he pointed his head at Dick, “… him.” 


	4. Finale

Bruce saw Dick lose even a little more strength and begin to tremble. It was a miracle the boy was still standing. If anyone here was hoping this would finally be over, it was his ward. 

“And if that doesn’t happen, then Wayne’s brat is going to have his head blown off.”  The man took the knife into his left hand, the arm still around the boy’s throat, and switched his gun into his right. He put it to Dick’s temple and played with the trigger. “So I’d suggest for you to let me pass.” 

Bruce could see from the desperate expression on the boy’s face that he would rather get shot right now than have to stay with this man who’d probably torture him, maybe even until he died. But he still couldn’t help him, as much as he wanted to. Not instantly. He kept trying to get nearer to the table on his right, covering his progress with small movements like shifting his weight from one side to the other, so no one would notice what he was planning. He needed a distraction so he could go on full action.  

While moving, he looked at Commissioner Gordon, who fortunately was the officer in charge. If anyone in the GCPD was able to do his job, it was him. Obviously, he was holding eye contact with the villain in front him. A second later, he lowered his eyes and beckoned his men to put their weapons down, just as he did. He had no choice but to do so, not with a kid’s life at stake and Bruce was thankful for that. If the man shot Dick now, it was too late. If he tried to get outside with him, there was a chance of stopping him. 

“Thank you!”, the man exclaimed and started grabbing a bag full of jewellry in front of him. Before he reached it, he stopped, shrugged and got back up.  

“Guess I won’t need the bag, all I’ll need will be the daddy.” His tone was full of taunt. “What did Wayne say? Don’t hurt anybody, was it? Hmmm, well get this message: Pay up and your kid won’t get hurt …  much.” Luckily, he was focused on Dick and the police, so he didn’t look for Bruce, who was still trying to inconspicuously reach the table. The man started walking backwards towards the nearest entrance behind him, still tightly gripping the boy. Dick hadn’t stopped trembling, it was almost painful to watch him. He looked so completely beaten and frightened.  

Everyone in the room was concentrated on the kidnapper and his hostage, no one payed the slightest bit of attention to the big man still on the floor. This was his chance. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. No mistakes now. 

Carefully, Bruce pulled himself to his feet, not making any noise. He reached for the silver serving tray, lying on the small table next to him. It was empty, the glasses it had once held long gone, now scattered in pieces across the floor, where scared people had dropped them. He took it, still completely silent and started to make his way up behind the man. From the corner of his eye, he checked on the guests and the officers. No one seemed to have noticed his actions. Good.  

When he was close enough, he lifted the tray above his head and turned it a bit. The coming movement was almost too quick to be seen, Bruce put all his considerable strength into it, fueled by his anger. With a loud _clang_ the silver met with the man’s neck, edge first to make sure he’d really lose consciousness. If Bruce seriously injured him, he didn’t care. This man had it coming, he truly deserved it for hurting Dick. The man instantly loosened his grip on the boy, dropped knife and gun and collapsed on the floor, completely blacked out. Dick, now without a reason to keep standing, went limp and started falling, too. Bruce threw his makeshift weapon away and darted forwards to catch his boy before he could hit the ground. Keeping him in his arms, he let his knees give way until he sat on the floor, still cradling the boy. He tried to be careful about Dick’s shoulder as not to hurt the boy even more but it was hard not to just pull him close and never let go again.  

Dick had closed his eyes and turned towards Bruce, burying his face in his guardian’s dress shirt and gripping the fabric as if his life depended on it. What was probably what he felt like. He started shaking and crying uncontrollably, while Bruce rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. He murmured words of comfort, still trying to grasp that it was over. Finally over. 

He barely noticed all the people around them shouting and trying to get their valuables back. It didn’t matter to him, should they do whatever they wanted to as long as they left him alone. All he cared about right now was the boy in his arms. He had been so close to losing him, he didn’t even want to think about it. He knew how the boy had changed him when first coming into his life and he didn’t dare imagine what would happen to him if Dick would be gone again. 

He felt the boy calm down and drift away to a sleep of complete exhaustion but didn’t let go. He didn’t even shift his position to a more comfortable one. He was content just sitting there, feeling the boy’s steady breath against his shirt. 

Commissioner Gordon came up to him but saw that Bruce didn’t want to be talked to, so he just beckoned to another officer and together they handcuffed the man still lying next to Bruce and Dick, taking him with them. The guy was still unconscious. 

Paramedics flooded the room, attending to the people in shock. One walked towards Bruce, a young woman. She smiled shyly at the intimidating man and kneeled down before them. When she tried to loosen Dick’s grip so she could clean his wounds, the tugging woke the boy. He blinked at her, trying to understand what was going on. When he realized that she was trying to get him away from his guardian, he turned his head again into Bruce’s chest and gripped his shirt even tighter. He made a small noise, almost like a wounded animal. The meaning was clear, he wouldn’t let go. Bruce couldn’t supress a soft smile. 

“Uh … Mr. Wayne?”, the paramedic asked, clearly hoping for his help. Bruce looked at her, frowning slightly. He knew that was all it needed to scare her away. But she meant well, so he kind of explained, as not to affront her too much. 

“I think Dick should be fine for now. We actually have a family doctor who I have already notified and will come by later.” He hadn’t called Lesley himself, but surely Alfred had, so it wasn’t a lie altogether.  

The woman hesitated for a second but decided to give in. She got up and walked away.  

Alone again, Bruce looked down at Dick, who slowly lifted his face until their eyes met. He could see the pain in the blue irises, but it was subdued by calmness and what looked like peace. Although he couldn’t accept it, he knew Dick was trying to comfort him. Him! As if he was the one being tortured. The boy had already forgiven him for taking so long until he rescued him, but for Bruce it would take forever. He would never forget how it had felt to let his boy down and he would never fully get over it, that just wasn’t like him. But for now, he tried to push the guilt away, tried to feel only the relief. 

Dick saw the feelings in his eyes – nobody could read him like this boy – and smiled at him. He returned the gesture. He could feel the boy falling asleep again, completely exhausted, but before he was gone, Dick said the first word since the man had stabbed him. It was almost inaudible but Bruce caught it. _Daddy._  

There it was, again. The proof that Dick had completely accepted him as his family, as his father. Bruce couldn’t help but bury his face in the boy’s black hair and hold him even tighter.  

His son. He tried to understand what that meant. What the boy felt for him. Utter trust and even a love Bruce had always thought no one would ever meet him with. And he returned it. He loved Dick. And he would give his life for him, without a moment’s hesitation.  

After a few seconds which seemed timeless, he carefully got up and lifted Dick in his arms without waking him. He took him up the stairs, away from all the people. To finally find some peace that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love a comment! :-)


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